


Storms

by magikfanfic



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-30
Updated: 2009-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-04 00:29:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magikfanfic/pseuds/magikfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set late 80s/early 90s so it should have very little impact on current storylines. The Illyana/Kitty pairing isn't explicit or really stated but it hovers at the edge like all good things. The Kitty/Peter pairing is told of after the fact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storms

**Author's Note:**

> Another drabble request from a friend. This was for wanderlustlover and turned out strange in that I went to second person again because third felt too far away and first seemed too close for comfort.

There are times when you can't say a word to her because words are somewhat meaningless when they're stacked against everything you've been through together. And sometimes there are no words because she scares them away with just one look from her unsettling blue eyes.

The rains come, as they do occasionally, because even Ororo can't convince herself that the weather should be perfect all the time. The thunder claps and the lightning tears holes in the sky. You don't know why it scares you so but storms always send you huddling under the blankets like a child. It's so easy to forget that you're fifteen. So when the thunder comes, she crawls under the covers and holds you, convinces you that everything is all right, until you can fall asleep in her arms. Two girls hiding from the storm.

It's hard to believe by looking at her that she's sixteen. If the light hits her just right, she seems so much younger even though her eyes and her voice, the way she carries herself, speak of years of experience that you're convinced you'll never have. You spent ten seconds apart but, for her, it was seven years. Years she can never get back, years she doesn't want to talk about. Not even when you sit up at night and well into the early hours of the morning talking. You always hope that it will come up, you even make slightly veiled comments about Limbo, but she can always turn it around to something else. Usually about Peter.

You can't comprehend how it's possible to love and hate someone so much at the same time. He broke your heart, left it strewn across the floor like broken slivers of glass. So why do you expect him to come back into your life and put the mirror in your heart back together? It's always her picking up the pieces. Even before it ended so terribly with his falling out of love with you, every time he said something wrong, it was her putting you back together again.

And yet he does care. She tells you that in a small voice in the middle of the night when all your tears have been cried out. It's not an attempt to convince you to stop feeling hurt or betrayed by him; it's just her way.

"Why is it always me complaining?" you ask.

You think she won't answer when she turns those blue eyes on you, stark and cold, stretching endlessly but never letting anyone in. "It doesn't do much good to complain, really. To say how unfair life is. It doesn't make it less unfair."

"You never ask me to stop."

"Because yours are easy. I can fix them."

"What about yours?"

The conversation ends as she turns back to her book and tunes you out.

***

After the fight with the Marauders, you have to go away to Muir Island so that Moira can take care of you. You want to be solid again. You remember the nights that she came to visit you when you where in the confinement tube. Her eyes a paler shade of blue, the color they turn when she's trying not to cry, and her voice wavering. "I can't touch you in there. I can't hold you. I'm sorry that you're alone." And you didn't even have a voice to console her with, just your own sad eyes.

A palpable distance grows between you even though there are the occasional letters and postcards. It seems that the New Mutants have decided to replace the void left by the death of the X-Men. You cannot even imagine how Illyana must feel to have seen her brother die on national television but be unable to stop it. Her postcard after it contained two simple phrases. "Couldn't get in. Couldn't save him."

Sometimes you think that you can feel her heart shredding even from across the Atlantic. You wonder if she can feel yours as well.

Months later, you find yourself in New York with her soulsword, and you know that she's gone. Your Illyana is gone, but you can't mourn her because you have to save the rest of your friends from a gang of lesser demons. But your world is shattered completely. Even the sight of her happy and seven years old doesn't cheer you up much because she's not yours anymore.

When it storms, you still crawl under the covers of your bed to try and hide from the lightning. There are no more arms to hold you at night. No more blue eyes to cling to. No more best friend to share secrets with at midnight.

No more Illyana to comfort you and make things better.

No more shelter from the storm.


End file.
